Beyond the Façade: Tales from The Happiest Place
by ForTalosandtheEmpire
Summary: A collection of various one-shots and drabbles that occur in the universe of "The Happiest Place". May contain spoilers for the events of that story. Rated "T" overall, although individual chapters have separate ratings.
1. Bring Me the Horizon

**A/N: Just a quick little one shot in honor of the 62nd anniversary of Disneyland, the reopening of Fantasmic! 2.0, and to answer the age-old question posed in Chapter 17 of _The Happiest Place_. As this story takes place nearly six years after _The Happiest Place_ concludes, there are minor spoilers for that story.**

 **Rated: K+**

* * *

 **Bring Me the Horizon**

 _"I'd go, too, you know," she said. "If you ever got the Pearl back."_

 _He seemed to find that amusing. "Would you, now?"_

 _"I've spent my whole life trapped. All seventy-five years of it. It would be nice to see what's out there for once. And, in case you hadn't noticed, there's not exactly much that's holding me here."_

 _He put his hands on either side her, pinning her back against the railing, and leaned in close._

 _"What about now, hmm?"_

 _"Very funny," she said with a laugh, wrinkling her nose. "That is, of course, provided you didn't run off on your own the second you got her back."_

 _"And leave you trapped here for good? No one deserves that."_

 _She considered him for a moment. "Do you actually mean it?"_

 _"There's no way to tell, now is there?"_

 _No, there wasn't. Besides, the point was basically moot anyway. He wasn't getting his ship back, and she wasn't ever getting out._

* * *

Sunrise. Cinderella's glass heels tapped sharply against the pavement as she ran. Fistfuls of her skirts were clutched tight in her hands. Behind her, the eastern sky further lightened as the sun began to peek over the horizon. She was out of time.

Strange how that worked, wasn't it? Sixty-two years to date in that place, and yet her timing never seemed to get better. Maybe she was just destined to be a little too slow. Just a little too late.

Once she'd believed that this day would never come. Rather naïvely, now that she thought about it. As often as the Park seemed to part characters from their Happily Ever Afters, it seemed almost inevitable that one of them should win theirs back someday, and even more so that it should be Captain Jack Sparrow. For the first time since he'd arrived, Disneyland had _officially_ put him back on his ship. Cinderella couldn't even begin to imagine what that must have felt like.

Nearly six years their status quo had stayed intact, and all it took was one change on behalf of the Park to upset that delicate equilibrium.

She crossed the Hub, making for the wooden arch that led into Frontierland. At this hour, everyone was just barely beginning to get into place for the day. The center of the Park itself was totally abandoned. After going through the gateway, she headed right, passing the shooting gallery and Zocalo. Ahead was Frontier Landing. To her surprise, the _Columbia_ was docked there. She felt her heart leap into her throat and forced herself to run faster. After shoving her way through the turnstiles at the entrance, she dashed across the landing and hopped the white fence at the far side. The set of rolling stairs were in place, and she took them two at a time before staggering up onto the ship.

The instant her foot touched the deck, the air around her shimmered and blurred. A second later the _Columbia_ had melted away to reveal a ship as black as night. The ship rocked beneath her feet. All around, a crew of pirates prepared to make way, shouting to each other as they did. Several of them gave her looks as they passed by. Cinderella carefully sidestepped to get out of their way. As she did, she finally caught sight of the lone figure on the upper deck.

Jack stood at the helm, compass open, dark eyes fixed on some point far in the distance. There was a glint of something in them that she thought might have been triumph.

Standing at the bottom of the stairs with one hand resting on the bannister, Cinderella called up to him, "You haven't left yet."

The pirate finally looked down, noticing her for the first time.

"Ah. Welcome aboard _The Black Pearl_ , Your Highness," he said, doffing his hat and giving her a sweeping bow. She ignored the gesture. Instead, she climbed the steps to join him at the stern of the ship.

"Did you wait?" she asked him as she reached the upper deck. "Or was I just fast enough to catch you before you went?"

He took a step toward her and asked in return, "Does it matter?"

She considered the question for a moment. Did it really matter? Whether or not he'd been planning to leave, he was still there. She'd made it in time either way. And that was what actually mattered in the end, she supposed.

"So, you finally have her back."

"Aye. Barbossa still has the _Wench_ – and he can keep her – but the _Pearl?_ " Turning back to the wheel, his fingers curled around one of the handles. " _The Black Pearl_ 's mine."

Cinderella couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"I'm proud of you, Jack," she told him. "You finally got your wish."

He shot her a knowing smirk. "I'm not the only one, love."

"I don't understand."

Gesturing behind her, he said, "Take a look for yourself."

Cinderella turned around. Beyond the ship was the open ocean, far as her eye could see. The caps of the dark waves shone like gold in the light of the rising sun. She'd dreamed of it, of course. A very, _very_ long time ago. Actually witnessing it for herself, however, the world stretching out all the way to the distant horizon… that was something else entirely.

"You see it, don't you?" Jack whispered in her ear.

She felt the brief sting of tears in her eyes as she whispered back, "It's beautiful."

Even though years had passed, she could still remember the conversation they had on the rooftops of Puerto Dorado as clearly as if it were only yesterday.

 _"_ _That's what you want most, isn't it? Freedom?"_

 _"_ _It is, and I think it's what you want as well."_

And there it was. So close she could actually taste it on the briny wind that rushed over the deck of the _Pearl_ and tugged at her bangs. She wanted that horizon and everything beyond it.

Slinging one arm across her shoulders and holding out the compass to her with the other, Jack said with a grin, "I promise, you will _not_ be disappointed."

She took it carefully. Her mind still reeled from the sheer possibility of it all. There was a whole world out there, waiting. _If_ she was ready for it.

With a deep breath, Cinderella flipped open the lid.


	2. Seldom All They Seem

**A/N:** **As a (slightly belated) Halloween present to you guys: an alternate view to Chapter 31 of The Happiest Place. As such, there are spoilers for the story through that chapter.**

 **Rated: T**

* * *

Snow fidgeted.

"How long do you think they'll be gone?" she asked in the tiniest of whispers.

Aurora didn't even look at her. She kept her gaze ahead, toward the entry courtyard outside _Pirates of the Caribbean_. Cinderella, Belle, Jasmine, and Ariel had gone in not long before, leaving the other two to wait outside while they attempted to extricate Jack Sparrow from his attraction. Mickey had refused to leave a Main that important behind, and it had been his idea to send the girls in after him. Cinderella, specifically. She'd… changed. Changed in a way that none of the other characters had ever seen before. She was still a Princess, but she was also a pirate somehow. The rule of trespassing no longer applied to her here. As such, she could go into _Pirates_ with no permissions necessary except her own.

"The attraction lasts for fifteen minutes," Aurora told Snow. "They can't have been gone more than five. Give them time."

"We don't have any more time."

They both looked left, in the direction of Adventureland. Even though they couldn't see the fighting from where they waited, Aurora could still hear the sounds of the fighting. The Villains were finally breaking through the front on the Jungle River. Snow was right: they could be on the Park at any minute. Once they were, the whole western side could go down.

"And what if he won't leave?"

"He will."

Snow shot her a skeptical pout, which Aurora ignored. Cinderella wasn't just the only character who could go in there; she was also the only one who could get Jack Sparrow back out again. Mickey believed she could do it, and so did Aurora.

Something _happened_ the night that Cinderella went under the sleeping curse. The others didn't understand why she'd taken a bite of the apple, but Aurora did. That sense of being lost, that maybe it would be better if she could feel nothing at all, was all-too-familiar to her. Cinderella had gone under knowing that Charming would be unable to wake her up. She, and everyone else, thought that no one could. But she did wake up from the curse. Tiana had brought Jack Sparrow to the tower and he'd done it. In that moment, something changed, and Aurora was left wondering what it was. Had Cinderella forced the Park to shift to accommodate her, or was it the other way around? Was it choice, or was it fate? Whatever it was, it was powerful, and she believed that Cinderella could bring him back.

" _Aurora…_ "

The voice was a whisper, a sigh. Faint and far away. Aurora stopped to listen. There it was again a second later, just as faint as before. With it came a feeling like she was being slowly but surely drawn away. She knew that particular feeling. Magic, like the kind Maleficent had used to draw her to the spindle. But that voice… It wasn't Maleficent's. No, it sounded like a young girl. Familiar. Who could it be?

"Aurora? Is something wrong?"

Snow this time. Somehow, she sounded almost as far away as the whispering. Her voice was muffled, as if she were behind glass. She said something else, but this time her words were lost. All Aurora could hear now was the whispers. They seemed to be coming from further west, along the waterfront.

"I'll be back," Aurora said. Or maybe she didn't. She couldn't feel her mouth move. The other Princess reached out to stop her, but Aurora slipped out of her grasp. She had to go. She had to check. That voice… Couldn't Snow just understand?

The feeling led her away from _Pirates of the Caribbean,_ around waterfront of the Rivers of America. Ahead was _The Haunted Mansion_. As Aurora approached, the front gates swung open of their own accord, allowing her to pass. She walked across the yard, up the front steps, and through the Mansion's doors. Everything inside looked… hazy, like it wasn't entirely there. Or she wasn't.

" _Aurora?_ "

The voice was louder now. Loud enough that Aurora could finally make out who it belonged to, but that couldn't be possible. She'd been gone for four years.

Still, she whispered back, "Giselle?"

" _She can hear you? How is that possible?_ " It was Eilonwy's voice this time. It'd been

Decades since she'd actually heard her voice instead of a recording. Aurora turned, looking for them. There was no one there.

"Where are you?" she asked.

" _Here,_ " Giselle said." _Not… here. You aren't here. Where are you?_ "

"I'm in the Mansion." Aurora hesitated. Right now, she was speaking to them in _The Haunted Mansion_. "Are you ghosts?"

" _No. No, we're not ghosts. We aren't where you are_."

"Then where are you?"

" _It's hard to explain_."

Aurora had kept walking as she spoke to the two of them, apparently. The foyer was gone, replaced by one of the Mansion's dark, winding corridors. The feeling of being pulled along hadn't gone away. In fact, it had only gotten stronger, drawing her further and further into the house.

"Are you in the Park?"

" _No_." A pause. " _And yes_."

"That doesn't make any sense. I thought you were both dead."

She'd made her way into the attic. There, hidden behind the mountains of old mementos, was an old table covered by a dusty cloth. On it was a small pink vial that glowed with a bright, pulsing light. As she approached, the voices got louder.

" _The ghosts are dead, aren't they?_ " Eilonwy's voice asked. She was so loud now that Aurora thought she could be standing right next to her. " _But they were still around. So, what is deader than dead, Aurora?_ "

"Lost."

" _No. Try again._ "

"Forgotten."

She reached out and gingerly touched the vial with the tips of her fingers.

Darkness. Light. A biting wind tore at her hair and her dress. A thousand voices called out to her in hoarse whispers from just out of view. Voices she recognized. Some she didn't. She turned around. They should be there, just behind her. Where were they?

 _Aurora._

 _Aurora._

 _Aurora…_

She saw the moon. The sun. An inky sky filled with the wrong stars. Sand shifted beneath her feet. Then boards, wooden boards, that creaked with every step. She gasped for air like she was surfacing from deep water, and the gasp quickly turned into a scream. Every inch of her burned, like she was on fire and freezing at the same time. She screamed again and her eyes snapped open.

The attic was gone. Instead, she staggered down yet another hallway. Closed doors flanked her on either side. As she passed them by, she caught sight of a faint glow on the wood. No vial, so where was it coming from? She was the only thing there. Aurora held up a hand. Her skin was transparent, like a scrim, backlit by bones that shone from the inside. Veins pulsed red, laced with gold. On her skin were patches of dark purple, glowing like embers. As she watched, the patches turned into circles, burning holes into the surface. Dark magic. And it was eating her alive.

There was a scream, not hers this time, and the sound of footsteps running toward her. Aurora turned. Six people raced down the hall: the other Princesses, along with Jack Sparrow. Why were they in the Mansion? Had they followed her inside? Chasing after them was the ghost of Constance Hatchaway, her face contorted into a vicious sneer. When the six reached Aurora, they didn't stop. They didn't even seem to see her. Instead, they kept running, passing through her as if she was nothing more than air. The same happened with the ghostly woman.

Bursts of purple-colored light burst as the doors slammed shut in the Princesses faces. There was dark magic all around them, leaching into the very walls of the Mansion, leaving them trapped with the murderous ghost. All of them except Aurora. She looked down at her hand again to see most of the skin had already burned away. The bones of her fingers began to glow purple and the tips looked like they were disintegrating as well. At this rate it would only be minutes until there was nothing left of her.

There was a sudden whisper in her ear. The voices. They'd been silent since she'd first surfaced from whatever the vial had done to her. Unlike before in the attic, she could barely make them out. Not even enough to tell who was speaking. The words faded in and out, like a radio whose signal was weak.

" _–_ _rora_. _Ghosts…_ here _… vial filled with power… use…"_

The vial. Power. If the ghosts were eaten up by the magic that was currently tearing her apart, it was their power that was inside it. _Use it_ , the voice said. To save the others? How? Part of _her_ was still in there as well, wasn't it? Maybe she could fight back, turn its own magic against it. But for that she would need the vial itself.

By the time she made it to the attic her left hand was gone. Her dress was tattered to rags. She could barely stagger toward the table, passing through the bits of clutter like they weren't there. The vial still sat where she'd first seen it, pulsing even brighter than before. A sound like static filled the air as she reached it. Aurora felt herself shaking. Everything went blurry. Soon there was nothing but that evil pink glow, slowly pulling her apart.

She grabbed the vial.

It burned again, worse than before. Searing, blinding pain filled what was left of her body, but she gritted her teeth and held on. If she let go, everyone else would die. Her friends would die. She had to control this. She was Briar Rose. Aurora. She was a Disney Princess, one of the original three. The Park's icon – the castle – belonged to _her_. If anyone could turn the Villains' magic back on itself, she could.

Strands of purple light leaked from the vial as she squeezed it so tight she thought it must shatter. Then the purple glow around her brightened until it was blinding. A high-pitched shrieking filled her ears, drowning out everything else. Was she screaming? Was it the static? She couldn't feel _anything_.

The world snapped back into focus and Aurora gasped for breath as a wave of something warm washed over her. She blinked and the glow faded from brilliant purple to a duller, softer shade of pink. Her skin tingled. Looking down, she saw that her hands looked normal again, though her gown remained tattered. The ripped hem floated lazily in a nonexistent breeze. All that was left of the magic was a brilliant glow in the middle of her chest that pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

There was another scream from somewhere below. Aurora turned toward the door, vial still clutched in her fist.


	3. The Dream

**A/N: This is just a little one shot that would not leave my head regarding the two Cinderellas; the one we see, and the one we don't.**

 **Rated: K**

* * *

As in many stories, there is a Princess.

The kingdom she rules is the crown jewel of an empire. Not the largest, but certainly the grandest. Surrounded by endless green and tiny oceans, its blue-and-silver castle soars above the landscape, home of the blue-and-silver Princess. Her red-gold hair is never seen out of its immaculate chignon and the glass slippers that grace her feet glitter like stars. She is a beloved symbol of this place in the eyes of the people who come for miles just to catch a glimpse of her. Words of dissenters do not reach her. Her pedestal is too high.

She rarely leaves her castle, or her place in the royal halls among her peers. When she does, it is for the rarest, fleeting glimpses. There, and then gone. Arm in arm with her Prince, she passes by a man with beads braided into his dark hair, ink running up his arms, and a tricorne hat perched atop his head. Their eyes do not meet.

Up in those blue-and-silver turrets where she dwells, far above the clouds, the Princess is untouchable. Iconic. But it is lonely there at the top, overlooking it all. And it is cold.

She is a symbol, after all, and symbols don't get to live.

Over two and a half thousand miles away, to the west, is another Princess. Nearly the same, yet fundamentally different. She has no castle, no kingdom, and her crown has been just for show for years now. A hollow sort of grief rests in her eyes, the likes of which the other has never truly known. Her red-gold hair is pulled from its blue ribbon by the wind. The slippers on her feet are not glass — those are too precious, and she has already lost them once. She knows no home but a mockery of the place she once escaped from. With no grand castle to shelter her, she can truly feel the touch of those who adore her, but the scorn of those who don't has a sharper bite.

She sits on a rooftop overlooking a darkened bay. Out in the water is a ship glowing like a beacon in the night. Beside her is a man with beads braided into his dark hair, ink running up his arms, and a tricorne hat perched atop his head. He looks at her with curiosity as she speaks of a girl that she will never meet. One she knows far less about than she believes. Her nose scrunches at his next suggestion in a gesture too human for the pretty symbol she should have been. Intentional or not, she had broken away from that image long ago.

 _"How can I be jealous of myself, Jack?"_


End file.
